Somewhere Only We Know
by harlequincabaret
Summary: The story begins in 1981, shortly after the downfall of the Dark Lord. This is my take on Xeno's life with Mrs. Lovegood before the birth of Luna, and the time leading up to the fateful accident.  Expect a tale of love, loss, and naturally, oddities.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey y'all! Thanks for checking this out. Just a little preliminary announcements: this is by no means a sequel to Surrender. It's more of a 'spin-off' of Xeno/Rina. This is pretty much the only chapter that will have any characters from Surrender…so newbies, you're all good! **

** Again, thanks for checking this out, and I hope you enjoy. Please review if you are so inclined!**

In the wake of impending war, many of my friends had gotten married straight out of Hogwarts. That was not for me, and luckily it was not for Xeno either. We preferred to travel the world and explore. We'd gone everywhere we'd ever dreamed, all it took was a bit of practice apparating and tireless zeal.

I'd known since the middle of our seventh year at Hogwarts that there was no going back. Anyone else I had ever dated (which trust me, was a very small number) became completely irrelevant once I befriended (and, well, more) Xenophilius. He was different and exciting. Above all, he had such enthusiasm. It was infectious, and it certainly rubbed off on me.

I had always been the type to fantasize and dream, and as a Ravenclaw, I had a thirst for knowledge and creativity. Xeno only brought that out in me even more. At times I did question his sanity, yes, but he had an innocent quality to him that was endearing and, quite simply, beautiful and refreshing.

But no matter how much joy he brought me, there was no denying the horror that was taking place. Sometimes it was easy to forget when I stayed with Xeno. His house was secluded from others, and stood tall and mighty. It was an entity all its own; it felt like a separate world. It was a nice escape, but did nothing but shroud reality.

…

It was a cold day in November. Xeno was, quite uncharacteristically, wearing all black. It was a shocking contrast with his nearly platinum candy floss hair. Unfortunately, the difference in wardrobe was necessary.

I,too, was wearing the darkest color of the spectrum. It was a plain black dress, one I'd purchased a week ago for this very day. It was with great sadness that I'd put it on in the morning.

Somehow, Xeno had managed to remain eccentric in his jet black dress robes. There was an intricate pattern against the rich fabric, which would surely make him stand out.

"Almost ready, love." Xeno said as he popped his head into the kitchen.

By the time I turned to respond, he had already disappeared.

"I'll be outside!" I called.

I put a shawl over my shoulders. It kept the chill at bay.

The land surrounding the house was vast and empty, but within Xeno's property, it felt magical—for lack of a better word. I felt like I had stepped into my own Wonderland the first time I'd visited—except much, much less dangerous and less turbulent. On such a bleak day, it seemed horribly ironic to be standing in a place that was so whimsical.

"Alright, Rina?" Xeno placed a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him.

"Yeah. As good as I could be."

"Shall we go then?"

I nodded and took his hand.

…

You would think that after apparating our way around the world, the sensation would become old hat. No such luck. It probably didn't help that I felt I would spew what little breakfast I'd had—this was the last place I wanted to be.

It was a very small ceremony, from the looks of it. Remus was there, as well as a few other friends from Hogwarts: Petra (with her fiancé Erik), Rebecca, and Leviticus. Under a tree, I spotted a cat looking on. McGonagall, perhaps? Somehow, it felt right that this was just for us. There was already talk about a memorial at the Potter's house. This was what _we_ needed: time to ourselves to reflect on the life-shattering event that had taken place not two weeks ago. An event just for us to reflect and pay our respects to a very gifted and very brave witch and wizard.

…..

I woke up in the middle of the night October 31st to Xenophilius' rapid pacing. I was confused for a moment, since I wasn't visiting him at the time. I had been at my own flat, and I immediately feared someone had broken in—a Halloween prank. Then I heard his frantic muttering, and I leapt out of bed.

He was a little spaced out—more than normal. When I finally connected with him, he looked extremely sorrowful. At the moment, I knew something terrible had occurred during the night. I had spoken to him the previous afternoon, and all was well then.

I knew he wasn't as good friends with Lily and James as I was—hell, I wasn't even as close as others. It seemed he was more upset _for _me. He didn't want to tell me.

I would have been in disbelief if his eyes hadn't shown such honesty. At first he was reluctant to tell me what had happened, but when I assured him I needed to know, he launched into the stories he had heard in the night.

…

"Lily would have wanted us to move on, you know." Petra sniffled. Admittedly, Petra and I had drifted from each other once we left school. We'd been best of friends then, but once Erik had swept her off to Paris, the connection had been severed.

"Yes. She would have."

"Perhaps Jackie has moved on a little too far?" Petra asked, and I could tell she instantly regretted the snide remark.

"Can you even imagine, Petra? First, your boyfriend you've been with for years is locked in prison the same night your best friend is murdered. I think she's allowed to go a little MIA."

"But she isn't even here for the ceremony!"

"Everyone heals at their own pace," Xeno added as he floated back to my side. "Ready darling?"

"Yeah. I am." I knew I was a watery mess. My mascara was surely running—I could feel the tears welling up once again. "It was nice seeing you again, Petra. Keep in touch."

Before I could break down any further, Xeno grabbed my wrist and took me far away from the scene.

"Damn it." I whined when I saw myself in the mirror. "I look like a bloody train wreck."

"It's more than just Lily and James, isn't it?" He asked as fixed us a pot of tea.

"Yes. It's everything, Xeno. It's everything their death signifies. I know it means the end of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…but it doesn't feel like the end. It feels too good to be true, you know?"

"Mmm." He handed me a cup full of warm liquid. I was content with just holding it between my frozen fingers. When I sipped it, though, it felt incredible. "Thanks for this. I don't even like tea, but I feel if I don't get something warm in me, I might just shatter into a thousand little pieces," I laughed nervously, then sipped on the tea greedily.

"More?" He held the kettle towards me, and I nodded vigorously.

"Thanks."

I gazed out the window into the wide open space, and just contemplated what things would be like now. Where would we go from here?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello hello! Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. This is a bit of a shorter update, but it is more for you to get to know Marina :D Please review. More to come.**

Even after a week of living with the news of Lily and James' deaths, I still felt dull shock in my chest. I knew that I had not been the closest friends with them, but it still hurt.

I should have been celebrating, I suppose. Not that they had died, of course, but that Voldemort had been cast away. Everyone else was.

To be honest, it still felt too surreal. It didn't feel right. How could he have been so alive and feared one moment, and then merely a figment of the imagination another? I had not accepted it yet, and wasn't sure I ever would be able to.

In our seventh year at Hogwarts, his reign of terror had strengthened. He was gaining ranks, some plucked from the very institution we called home. We watched Mulciber and Avery, among countless others, fall to their knees for him. I saw Lily secretly fear for Severus Snape, though their friendship was much beyond mending. She would not vocalize her concern.

If I hadn't had Xeno with me that year, I swear I would have gone mental. I was not worthy in their eyes. I was Muggleborn. Both of my parents didn't care for magic, though they tolerated me. I was allowed to stay in the house, and they provided for me. But in no way did they approve of the life I lived.

As I set my mug of steaming hot cocoa down on my writing desk, I smirked. If only they knew.

Of course, they knew about Xenophilius. They just hadn't met properly yet, and I was hoping they wouldn't for a while. I wasn't ashamed of him by any means—I just didn't want to subject him to their judgment. He was…eccentric. All they wanted for me was to cast away my magic side and embrace the life I had had before I turned eleven. Xeno was the exact opposite of that. He was whimsy and nargles and dirigible plums. He was fantasy. He _was _the wizarding world for me.

I sipped the piping hot beverage and scorched the tip of my tongue in the process. Though it left my tongue feeling rough and throbbing, it had become a kind of tradition. Every morning when I sat down at my desk, I had my cup of hot chocolate. I could never wait for it to cool down—to do so would take a long time. So, over-eager, I would sip, only to be rewarded with a mild burn.

I pulled out a fresh ream of paper and inserted it into the type writer. I hadn't touched it in days. The grief and confusion had even affected my writing. I stretched my fingers out to ready myself, and once they hit the keys, there was no looking back.

Sometimes as I wrote, I lost track of what I was saying—it all just flowed out of me effortlessly. Today, I tackled the subject of Voldemort's defeat, and what it truly meant for our world, and the world at large. I don't know why I bothered. It wasn't like anyone would publish the damn thing.

The Prophet was too busy raving about how amazing it all was. My piece would surely dampen their spirits, seeing as it was full of doubt, doubt, doubt. There was hope too, in my defense. But there was still the shading of negativity.

By twelve noon I had written three full pages, consumed two large cups of hot chocolate, and gotten the post.

My barn owl Perry cooed from the window sill. He clicked his beak happily as I fed him a tiny treat in exchange for the parcel and the letters he carried.

A letter from the Prophet, denying my last inquiry for a position.

Hmph.

A note from Xeno, asking me to come over later. Very important, he said. I should be there at one.

Interesting.

The parcel was my latest order from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. It was an elegant quill with the feather of an eagle, a custom order I had made. There were also two bottles of dark ink, a rich navy and a deep black. I set the ink wells aside and placed the new quill with my others.

I had an hour before Xeno wanted me at his house.

I looked down at my attire. Pajamas, still. I hadn't really changed out of them all week, now that I considered it.

As I pulled out a new set of clothes, I felt like I had reached a milestone. After writing that editorial, I felt renewed. I felt like I was finally able to move on after a week of moping around and hanging my head.

I opted to wear a sweater with my outfit, since the weather was still a bit nippy.

I walked around my apartment and set things right that I had allowed to go astray the past week. Simple things like dusting off a picture of Xeno, Portia, Erik, and I on graduation day gave me a refreshing sense of confidence going forward.

With fifteen minutes left before I was expected, I was feeling restless. I played with Perry for a few moments, and then I set him in his cage.

"Sorry, fella. I'll be back soon." I scratched his neck consolingly.

I grabbed my purse from the kitchen table and made to leave the flat. But then a thought popped into my head. I turned on my heel, stopped in the middle of the doorway. I considered something, and then marched back through the flat to my writing room. I snatched the fruits of this morning's labor and left home at last.


	3. Chapter 3

I walked along the pathway to the house, and up up up the stairs. Around me were dirigible plums, orange in color. I smirked at the curious tree—the plums had always intrigued me. They grew upside down, floating like many orange balloons. They swayed and floated in the wind. It was like a little colorful Heaven, compared to all the darkness we had seen in the months past.

I gripped the article in my hand and sighed. I don't even know why I brought it. Xeno was, you know, just a bit passive about everything. He was happy, _of course_, that Voldemort had been defeated. But he just didn't take as much stock in it as I did. On the other hand, he wasn't overindulgent in celebration. I don't know why I brought it.

I knocked on the door, but just as soon as my fingers came in contact with the wood, Xeno swung open the top half, and leaned over the barrier. He held my face between his hands, slightly dirty from today's adventures, and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Come in, come in!"

I did as he asked, though I was still curious why he had called me here. He took the paper out of my hand, and put it on the table.

"I see you've been writing."

I nodded. No emotion. Just a nod.

"Do you not feel well today? Are you still not doing okay after all this time?"

I cleared my throat. "I've been doing okay, I guess. I've started to come around today. I began writing again, and I've been easing back into my normal routine. But you know, it's still been hard. When no one feels the way you do, things are hard."

He nodded. He moved to make a cup of tea for me, but I immediately protested.

"No thanks, Xeno." I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I'm not up for it right now." I had been able to stomach the tea after the funeral, but today was not one of those days when I could just blindly drink. His tea…well…it was pretty horrible. It had a horrible aftertaste and felt entirely unnatural.

He poured a cup for himself instead, and sat at the table. I followed suit. For a while, he just sat and sipped while staring at me. This should have been awkward, but it wasn't. It happened often, and it wasn't too, too rare to happen among Ravenclaws. It was just a habit we had picked up from late night study sessions. We'd sometimes sit there in a daze, tomes of History of Magic or Ancient Runes at our feet. When our brains had absorbed as much as they ever could, our eyes would glaze over—a mark of our diligence.

"Why did you want me to come here?" I asked, eyeing the paper he held in his hands.

He was vaguely reading it over, but not really absorbing it. There seemed to be something else on his mind, I could tell.

"I had an idea, you see. A few ideas, actually. But I suppose we should cover one first. Is this what you wrote this morning?" He asked me, lifted the sheets in his hand. I chuckled.

"Yes," I laughed breathlessly. "I already told you that.

He fingered through the pages. "It's quite good."

"You haven't even read it," I smirked.

"But I know it is going to be good. It's you're writing. It is—it is always good. I know. Remember those times we tried and failed to start a school newspaper at Hogwarts?"

I blushed. I still felt the embarrassment as if it were fresh. It had crashed and burned so miserably. I swear, Lily had been the only one to humor us.

"Of course I remember. Why don't you read it?" Then I regretted saying it, and tried to back-peddle. "I'm not even going to bother sending it to the Prophet this time. I don't even know why I wrote it. It's just pointless and I don't know." I sighed deeply and ran a hand through my freshly-razored pixie cut. The texture felt interesting against my skin. I put my head in my hands and sighed.

"I'll read it."

There was silence for a couple minutes as his eyes zoomed across the page, sometimes widening madly. Other time I saw his brow crease. He seemed to _get_ it. All the different emotions I had felt while typing it out…they showed in his face.

"It's very good. Really, this time. I knew it would be good, and it really is. You really do have doubts about this, don't you? Do you think it is just the grief?"

"No. There is just something unsettling about all this. I guess I just cannot accept it until I see for sure that his body is gone—his soul and all. How could one little baby just…defy him? How? Little Harry Potter, just destroy him?"

"I'm sure it wasn't just him, dear. I'm sure there was something else at play—something we may never know about. Some kind of protection, perhaps."

I could feel him watching me intently as I stared at the table in contemplation.

"It is quite good. It's too bad you don't want to send it in."

"I just got another denial notice, Xeno. I don't think they would appreciate the blubbering of a doubtful woman." I exhaled shakily. "They're too busy celebrating and selling thousands and thousands of papers. They don't _want _anything like this. They don't want negativity."

"Well, what if I published it?" He asked, his voice hesitant.

I slowly looked up at him, my eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"This is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I'm thinking of publishing my own magazine. I've had this idea for a while that I've been mulling over. Ever since Hogwarts, I've been thinking about it. What if I published my own magazine with my findings? I like to search for new creatures and explore the world!" He took my hands in his forcefully. His eyes were alight with that enthusiasm again. "We could write about all our adventures from traveling. When we went to Greece, Egypt, and New Zealand! Like when we saw all those creatures that the Muggles had no idea were magical! Or we could talk about how our dirigible plums are growing, and the techniques we've used to help them thrive. It could be very interesting."

"If you think you'd have readership—I mean, that's a great idea, Xeno. " I pointed to the paper in front of him. "You'd publish this?"

"Of course I would. We could write together. I know you like to experiment with your spells and gardening and potions…We could talk about whatever we wanted. Anything you'd write, I'd publish."

"We could write about the latest news," I added. "Not _just _the latest news—_our _thoughts on the latest news! Something completely different from The Daily Prophet." I massaged my temples. It was a lot to think about, although it was a very enticing and exciting idea. Starting a new endeavor was not something I had been completely prepared to do following the recent happenings, but he was happy. He looked like he wanted my approval. That was not like him. He was normally so sure of himself, that he just _did,_ then asked. It must have been important to him. _**I **_must have been important to him. "Yes. I think you should do it. I'll help whenever you need it. Fat load of good it's doing me writing and just sending it off to the Prophet!"

"Well, that is just one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. The second will have to wait. I want to go down to Diagon Alley and talk with a publisher. He told me if I was still interested, I should contact him straight away. He's going to help me get this off the ground!"

"Yeah, okay."

"You can accompany me if you want, but I thought you might want to look at the garden. It has sorely missed your care. I've let it slip away from me. Plants are the last thing on my mind as of late. There's probably a couple gnomes in there, so mind yourself. But of course, you know what I always have said about gnome saliva."

I smiled. "Yeah, I'll stay. I've missed the garden as well. I'll make you lunch, too. How's that?"

"Wonderful! I'll take this with me," he picked up the article. "I'll show the publishers. Maybe they'll want to do something with it. Though, I confess, I do want you all to myself." He smiled down at me, and I was surprised to see an uncertainty in his eyes.

I stood up and embraced him tightly. I hoped he could feel how resolutely attached to him I was.

"Xenophilius, you already have me." I pulled away, and looked up at him affectionately. "Now go! I'm so proud of you. And happy. Go get this thing started. I can't wait to hear what else you have in store."

With a rushed peck on the lips, Xeno was out the door, his arms full of plans for his magazine. I was excited to see what would come from his latest idea, but like all his others, I was sure it was going to be interesting, to say the least.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just got back from LeakyCon! Thanks to all who put this story on alert or favorited it when I was gone! I met Evanna Lynch, AKA Luna Lovegood! It was so amazing! Anyways, here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

I knew my way around Xeno's kitchen like the back of my hand. I'd been there enough to know exactly where things were, down to specific spices.

Though he had a fully stocked pantry, I couldn't decide what to prepare. My eyes searched the humble kitchen. There was a bowl full of vegetables, which I assumed were from the garden. They looked like they were on the way out, at least a week past their freshness. I picked one up tentatively. It felt okay, just a little squishy.

There was cucumbers and peppers, a head of lettuce and onions. I placed them all on a wooden cutting board and surveyed the lot of them. Carefully, I sliced off a small section of each, nibbling the very edge to test for taste. They all seemed just fine, so I began to dice them. Might as well use them before they've gone too far off the deep end!

Before I knew it, I had made not a salad, but a piece of art. Each of the small pieces of colorful vegetable created a bright pattern on top of the bed of lettuce. It looked like a multi-hued flower. It would be a shame to eat it, but at the same time, it looked incredible.

I wrapped some cellophane around the dish to seal out the air, and set it in the fridge.

I loved the general feel of the house. To me, it just felt like freedom. It was an environment conducive to imagination, and I loved it. But above all, I loved the garden.

I walked out the door to the back, where there was a fenced-in collection of plants. It was a whole other world.

There were trees bearing fruit, and bushes with beautiful purple butterflies parked on delicate leaves.

In the center was a patch of my favorite flowers, morning glories. They were purple and light blue in color—simply beautiful.

Leaning against the house was a cabinet full of tools. I pulled out a hand-held spade, a pair of gloves, and a till. I was fully aware I could tend the garden with magic. The process was calming, however, almost therapeutic.

I kneeled before my flowerbed first. I held the gloves in my hand in consideration, and then tossed them aside. I didn't mind getting a little dirty. Besides, actually feeling the earth between my fingers made me feel more connected to nature.

There were a few sneaky weeds hiding out in the flower patch that I was determined to sort out. I dug around the base of one of the weeds with the spade, putting the dirt off to the side. I was acutely aware that there was a gnome peering at me from a nearby bush. I gripped the base of the weed in my palm. Giving a sharp jerk upward, I uprooted the unwanted growth from the soil. It was satisfying to do it by hand.

It took a while, but I had removed all the weeds from the sections of the garden that showcased the morning glories. Now the beautiful flowers had their proper spotlight.

As I admired them, I felt something sting my foot. When I looked down to see what had taken a rude chomp on my big toe, I saw that pesky gnome running away.

"Oh, real surreptitious." I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but smirk. It was a funny sight to see something that looked roughly like a potato run away from you.

Although the puncture wounds hurt, I let them go. Regardless of whether it was true or not, Xeno _did _always say the saliva from the gnome could only help.

I chuckled as I moved on to the pear tree. Xeno. What an oddity. But it was impossible to imagine him any other way.

"Marina?"

I froze in mid-action. I had been reaching up (on my tippy tippy toes—I was very short, and the pear I was trying to obtain was very high up) for a golden pear. It looked delicious, and I had been considering adding it to the salad.

"Out here!" I jumped a tiny bit and ripped the pear from its branch. I dropped it into a basket that was lying next to the trunk, and wiped my hands off on my pants.

Xenophilius entered the garden with a serene look on his face. "It looks lovely. I knew you'd do it a world of good."

"Did you have any success?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes! He gave me some amazing ideas. I told him I'd send him the first rough copy of the magazine when I'd gotten it started."

"That is so wonderful, Xeno." I wrapped my arms around him and sighed contentedly. "I made us a nice salad for lunch. Interested?"

"Not at this moment—remember I had something else to talk to you about?"

"Oh yeah! Well, if the first thing you wanted to speak to me about was so fantastic, I cannot even imagine what this is all about."

"Let's sit." Xeno summoned a blanket from the cabinet, and it spread across the ground in front of the flowerbed.

"Got bit by a gnome!"

"Really? Did you clean it up?"

"Xeno, after spending so much time with you, do you think I did?" I smiled at him and shook my head.

"Well, it's been known to induce extraordinary talent upon the person who has been bit. Perhaps you should start writing some articles, not that you need that extra bit of talent."

"You flatter me too much."

"You deserve it, and I want to. But on to what I wanted to speak to you about…"

"Right, sorry." I bit my lip and gazed into the flowers.

I felt his hand brush a stray bit of hair behind my ears—not that I had much. Still, there were a few rebellious chunks that liked to flip out at random. When I put my hand to the same spot, I felt the soft, smooth surface of a petal.

"They suit you."

It registered with me that he had put a morning glory in my hair, and I blushed.

"Thanks." I began to pick at the grass, just to avoid his face. There was something very intense in the way he was looking at me, and I could only take it in small doses.

"I must confess, I took a small side trip in Diagon Alley."

"Oh?"

"I needed to pick something up. I've had it on hold for a while, but today felt like the day to finally get it."

"And why didn't I know about this?" I asked playfully.

"Because, well, it's for you. Us, really." His hand reached into his pocket, but he took nothing out just yet. "I've been thinking lately about how much I care for you—it can be nothing less than love. You were never afraid of me—" I was about to protest, to tell him no one was afraid of him (how could they be?), but he silenced me with a hush. "You always accepted me as I was. And the best part of all! You have an open mind, and you believe in the unbelievable! I do not know how you feel for me…how strong you feel…but I love you, and I feel there is no one else for me."

"Xeno…" I took his face in my hands (perhaps a little too forcefully), like he did so often to me. "How on earth can you question my love for you? You, who firmly believes in wrackspurts and nargles…yet something you see with your eyes…something right in front of you…_that's _what you're unsure of?"

I tried not to feel hurt. Had I done something wrong? Did I just not show enough affection?

He did not say anything else; I think I had said everything I needed to—enough for the both of us. Instead, he pulled out a beautifully carved wooden box. The design was intricately intertwined vines, and the occasional flower.

"Your friendship and love has meant more to me than can be expressed. I don't think I could continue without you."

"Xeno…"

He opened the box, and nestled on top of a bed of purple tissue paper was a simple but elegant ring. It was white gold with a small, humble diamond. It was perfect.

"I know I have crazy dreams, but this one, I don't feel it is too crazy. Would you honor me with your hand in marriage?"

The moment I had seen the box, I had a feeling. But yet, I was still in shock. There was nothing more I'd want: a man with a vivid imagination, wit, intelligence, and a pure heart. A smile spread across my face and I looked him in the eyes.

"I've already agreed to one of your mad ideas today, what's another?"

I barely felt him slip the ring on my finger before we were lying on the blanket, lips moving against one another with happiness and passion. I hoped he felt it now—how much I truly, deeply loved him.

When we broke apart, I smiled down at him, my face perched on his chest.

"This day has been just…amazing." I exhaled in a mixture of wonder and laughter.

"Mmmm." Xeno hummed in response.

There was silence for a couple minutes. We just lay there together, completely blissful. The garden felt even more magical than before.

Xeno's stomach gave a great rumble, and I giggled like a little school girl.

"So you _are _hungry. I'll go get the salad ready…I'll call you when the table is set."

"Do you want help?"

"No, no. Just let me do it." I beamed down at him again, and I felt my eyes prickle. For the first time in a while, I felt genuine hope.

With a quick parting kiss, I jumped up and dashed to the kitchen. On the counter (curved into the circular wall, like all other fixtures in the house) was a mock-up copy of Xeno's prospective magazine.

'The Quibbler', it read.

I had to cover my mouth to stifle a hysterical laugh of pure elation. That name said it all about my fiancée—he was mad as a hatter, as the saying goes, but I would never want it any other way.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I actually like this chapter quite a bit, and I hope you do as well! LeakyCon was amazing, and I am still coming off of that high (although I am DEAD tired). Please review.**

For one blissful day, I thought of nothing but Xeno and I. We began to plan almost instantly. We agreed on a winter wedding, which gave us very little time. However, we expected it to be a small event.

When we had begun to outline the guest list, I was faced with the realization that my family would need to know. Xenophilius was probably the last person they would want me to marry. They would have to accept it though, because I loved him too much to care what they thought.

"You know you have to speak with them," Xeno said from across the garden.

"I know I will." I sighed and tossed aside a flower I'd been picking at out of anxiety. "It doesn't mean I want to."

"So they don't like me, is that it?"

"They don't like the idea of magic, Xeno." I walked over to where he was seated on the blanket, sat and criss-crossed my legs, and then put my head on his shoulder. "They hate what I am. But they need to accept it, and they better do it fast. No one will ever convince me to walk away from you. They can try. It just won't work."

"I could go with you."

"I'd like that, if only for the fact that wouldn't stop staring at you and judging you."

"As long as I have you, I don't care what they say. But they need to know. I don't think it would be appropriate for them to find out via invitation."

He was all too right.

"I'll send them an owl now," I exhaled huffily again.

"Won't that alarm them?"

"Oh, yes. But after that, the shock of me marrying you shouldn't be as harsh, right?"

It was getting dark outside. The sky was a deep indigo color, slowly edging towards blackness. There were a few stars dotting the huge expanse, and despite having to confront my parents about today, I smiled.

I tried to dress conventionally. I thought it might soften the blow. However, it seemed Xeno owned nothing 'normal'.

When he had emerged from his bedroom, he had on a pair of creamy yellow slacks with a radish-like pattern all over them. They were supposed to resemble Dirigible Plums, and they had been a gift from me to him. He only wore them on the most special occasion. Apparently he deemed this to be an important event, but I hoped he wouldn't get his hopes to high. I was anticipating the worst.

"How do I look?" He asked, turning a bit to model.

"Just fine, Xeno. Great." I had to bite my lip. He did, of course, look great—at least in my eyes. But it was hard to get past the gawky pants and his perpetually dreamy expression. My parents would only think of him as a freak. If only they could see what I did in my spare time other than writing! I had nearly blown up my oven at my flat the past week, in an attempt to use a spell of my own creation. It was supposed to help cook the meal faster, but it only left everyone who inhabited the apartment at risk.

"And you look lovely as well." He ducked his head down and kissed me on the cheek. "Shall we get going then?"

I nodded, but I wasn't entirely ready. I don't think I ever could be.

The letter I had sent my parents was brief and revealed very little. I simply said I would be visiting, gave a time, and also mentioned that Xenophilius would be coming along. They had never properly met. One year they sent me a camera for Christmas (which had intrigued Xeno very, very much) so I took some videos and sent them copies. Just in time, too. The camera had met its demise in another one of my accidents—this time a potion that backfired. Needless to say, they were not impressed with him.

"Are we apparating?"

"Floo network, if that's okay with you. They're more used to that, I think." Truth was, they freaked out every time I came to visit when I arrived that way. But I figured that apparating might be a slightly bit more alarming.

….

My parents were ready for our arrival. They were sitting around the fireplace when we showed up, their eyes fixed emotionlessly on the firewood. I could see the flames reflecting in their eyes; they didn't look at us.

"Hi mum, dad." I stepped out of the grate, one hand holding onto Xeno.

Slowly, dad acknowledged my presence. A tiny nod, and a quick glance up at us. Mum's eyes had shifted from the firewood to our hands. There was a fleeting look of disgust in her eyes.

We had an odd relationship. I knew they loved me…at least the me they knew before I turned eleven. But now? Now it was…strained. They hated witchcraft. It was a religion thing. I still held my Christian beliefs from my childhood, but they couldn't get past it. They thought that I was a freak, and what's more, a heretic.

I cleared my throat and shifted my feet awkwardly.

"This is Xenophilius. He was in those videos—"

"We know." Mum cut in, her tone sharp.

"How do you do?" Xeno asked, all smiles and politeness. He extended a hand to them, but both seemed to cringe away from the contact. I felt isolated and alone without his hand in mine, so when he retracted it from them, I grabbed it immediately.

"I care about Xeno very much, and I don't think you should be so rude to him. He's been nothing but kind to you, and to me. He deserves respect."

Xeno glanced at me; he seemed a little surprised, but only I would have detected that emotion in his misty eyes.

Mum and dad looked affronted, but they made no attempt at an apology. I can't say I expected any more of them.

"Well this is going lovely." I sighed and ran my free hand through my hair. "If this is the way it's going to be, I best just get to the point of this cheerful visit."

"Please, do." It was the first words my father had spoken, and I nearly jumped. In the silence, it sounded louder than normal.

Mum was staring at Xeno's pants, which looked even more incredibly gaudy in the stark white, clean, and average Muggle house. Her nose was wrinkled in distaste. She looked physically revolted.

"Mum, I'm up here thank you very much." I snapped, and she jumped a bit, but nevertheless turned her attention to me. "Thank you for your kind attention." My mood had quickly turned sour, and I wasn't about to hold anything back. "I'm engaged. Yes, go ahead and snarl. Go ahead and groan. I don't care. I just thought you'd like to know, seeing as I **am **your daughter. I'm engaged to this beautiful man beside me. Xenophilius is the best thing to happen to me. I love him, and I know he loves me. He'll take care of me." I inhaled sharply. "You'll be receiving an invitation soon. The wedding will be in about a month. It'll be small, simple. You're invited, but if it is really that horrible that I found someone perfect for me, you don't have to come."

The rest was silence. I waited for a minute. There was perhaps a shred of hope in my heart that they would jump up and hug us, to shower us with congratulations. But that was a foolish thing to imagine.

I turned into Xeno, my lips at his ear. "Let's go. This was pointless."

I didn't say goodbye, but Xeno, ever the gentleman, did.

"Goodbye," he bowed with a small smile. But nothing changed in their disposition.

I stepped into the grate, refusing to look at them again. I felt relieved when Xeno was finally next to me again. We were off—back to Xeno's house. Our house? I wasn't sure yet. At any rate, it felt more like home than that perfect, suburban home ever did.

….

"Are you alright?" Xeno asked once we arrived inside his house.

"Fine." I threw off my coat, took a moment to consider something, and then tugged it back on again.

"No you're not, love."

"You're right. You're always right. I'm not fine. I don't know why I even expect anything better. I should know by now! I mean, I _know _they hate that I turned out to be a witch. It's everything they are against! But for once, I just wish they'd accept me and understand that it wasn't something I could help! And the way they looked at you! It was sickening! Why can't they get it? Why don't they just want me to be happy? You make me happy, and I just wish they'd be civil with you!"

I could feel tears forming in my eyes, and I walked towards the door.

"Where are you going, Rina?" His eyes were swimming with concern. His hand found mine, and I looked up at his kind face. I reached up with my free hand and laid it against his cheek.

"Xeno, you're nothing less than perfect to me, you know that right? I may feel like I need their validation, but never feel like you do. Promise me?"

"Of course." He rested his forehead on mine, and we shared a short but intimate moment.

"I'm going down to the stream. I just need to take some time to clear my head. Do you want me to look for plimpies? I could make soup later."

"Only if you wish. How about I make us a little something?"

"Sure. That would be great." I gave him a watery smile. He wasn't a great cook. In fact, his food was not much better than his tea or his gurdyroot infusion. But at this point, it would have been callous of me to turn him down. He looked like he genuinely wanted to do it, just to make me feel better. "I'll be back soon."

….

I stuck my toes in the water, not even caring that there were all sorts of creatures swimming around me in the stream. It was beautiful down here. It was nice to just sit and think. I felt as though everything was crashing down on me in a great wave. Lily and James' death, the apparent downfall of Voldemort, all the rejections at the Prophet, Xeno's proposal…it was a lot to happen at once. Cap it off with my parents' ignorance and reluctance to accept reality, and I was feeling very overwhelmed.

I had to feel a little lucky. I had Xenophilius, and I hoped that would be enough. He was supportive, above all. And resilient! Nothing seemed to affect him. So why couldn't I be like that?

He must think I am weak for succumbing to my parent's cruelty. I let it affect me too much. That needed to change.

Sitting by the water felt so unreal. The whole stretch of land that surrounded the Lovegood residence was unbelievably gorgeous. It felt too good to be true.

After at least an hour thinking everything over and watching plimpies nibble on my toes, I felt two hands grasp my shoulders. I kept my eyes on the water, but my lips gave a small twitch upwards.

"I made us supper, if you're ready."

"Thanks," I whispered. "I'll be there in a bit."

He walked away without another word. I let a few minutes pass before I turned to view his retreating form. It took me back to earlier in the day, when hope had flared inside me. He was all I had left.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Another update! I'm kind of on a roll! Hope you enjoy this Please review!**

When I woke up the following morning, I could still taste the dish Xenophilius had made the previous evening. It was enough to make me gag, but it had been a sweet gesture. Just as I was experimental in my spells and potions, he was very experimental in the culinary arts.

I hopped out of bed, leaving Xeno still fast asleep (and adorably so). I went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth, hoping to rid myself of the bitterness in the back of my throat. It worked somewhat, but there was still a ghost of it lurking back there.

I had to walk through Xeno's workspace in order to make my way down to the kitchen. It was cluttered, but inspiring all the same. There were doodles and drawings, and the occasional painting on bare walls. In the corner was a printing press, a rather new addition. It was idle at the moment, but from the plans I saw on one of the desks, it seemed he'd be ready to begin any day now.

There was a stack of paper to my right, and I went over to observe. My article, printed in fantastical font. It seemed to be glorified. My heart swelled with affection.

In the kitchen I began to prepare some fresh-squeezed orange juice and a slice of toast. With a flick of my wand the oranges began to wring themselves dry, the juice filling up a glass. The toast was browning on its own, no toaster needed. I had gotten good at simpler spells involving food like these, but whenever I tried to create new spells involving things like ovens…that was another story!

After downing the modest breakfast, I quickly scribbled a note for when Xeno woke up. I informed him that I would be going off to Diagon Alley, to look for dresses. We'd mentioned it the night before. The wedding was something that was keeping me looking up, making me a little more optimistic. I wanted to dive right into the planning.

Though it was known to be on the more expensive side, I had my sights set on Twilfitt and Tatting's. I knew they carried a wide range of bridal gowns and other dresses. Madam Malkin's also carried a few, but the selection was more focused on robes there, and that was not what I was on the lookout for.

I stepped into the fireplace, a fistful of floo powder at the ready. I threw it down into the flames that lapped at my ankles, and distinctly cried, "Diagon Alley!"

Before I knew it I was standing in the Leaky Cauldron. It was busy today. All around me was chattering and the clanging of glass steins against one another. Nobody seemed to have seen my arrival, which was fine by me. I just wanted to go about my business as quick and efficient as possible.

The streets were just as crowded as the seedy tavern. It was nearing the holidays, and it seemed many people were out shopping for gifts. I wasn't sure what I would be getting Xenophilius this year. The previous Christmas I'd had those Dirigible Plum pants custom made. It had cost a pretty penny, but I think his reaction was worth it ten-fold. Perhaps this year something for the magazine would be prudent.

It was not long before I reached Twilfitt and Tatting's. There were a few people in the shop, most rifling through racks of dress robes or cloaks. They seemed to be having a sale, although a sale at T & T was not usually anything significant.

"Hello deary." The saleswoman greeted breathlessly. She had two bolts of fabric in her arms, dwarfing her petite frame. She was nearly my size, which was saying something.

I rushed forward to help her, grabbing one of the bolts just before it teetered onto the dusty floor. It was stunning emerald velvet. It would make lovely dress robes.

"Thank you, thank you. If you wouldn't mind carrying it over this way…"

I followed behind her until we reached a secluded corner of the store. There was a sharp looking woman glancing at a wall of accessories.

"Your fabrics, Ms. Black."

The woman turned on her heel so quickly, it was astonishing that the little saleswitch was not thrown onto her back.

I instantly recognized her. She had a look of distaste etched onto her face, and her hair was nearly platinum blonde.

"It's Mrs. Malfoy." She sneered, obviously thinking herself above manners.

"Thanks for the help, deary. I'll be with you in a moment." I could tell she could not wait until I would be the customer she attended to.

I nodded and dashed away; I didn't think I could bear to be around Narcissa Malfoy any longer. Her stare was nearly painful.

I began to look through the few racks of wedding gowns. A couple caught my eye, but it was not until the short woman came to my side that I found _the one_.

"Ah, wedding dresses, hmmm? Big day coming up?"

"Yes." I beamed, running my hands along a dress made of the finest, smoothest silk. "A winter wedding."

"Have you found anything you like?"

"A few, actually. This one here," I pulled out a crème colored dress. It cut off at the knees, which I thought was interesting for a bridal gown. There was nothing too flashy about it, but it would do if necessary.

"Mmm. Yes, that is one of our more simplistic designs. I have one I think you'd look stunning in, if you don't mind me saying."

"Oh?" I didn't know how else to respond, but I didn't have to think of anything else—she was already rummaging through a rack at the very back of the store.

"Here! A personal favorite, and a rather new addition to our catalog."

It was a beautiful gown, and I fell in love with it immediately. It was classic, with a fun accent.

It was an a-line dress, white in color. The fabric was like satin, and it would surely feel like a dream when worn. It was strapless, but there was a transparent lace component connected to the bust, which had three-quarter-length sleeves. It was great for a winter event. There were elegant lace patterns traveling from the bust to the skirt, which was long and would float along the ground. And at the waist? A black bow made of tulle. It was a nice twist to such a classic and elegant gown.

"Oh my." I took it in my hands and just felt it. It felt rich and lush. I did not even want to think of the price tag the dress boasted. "I must try this on."

"I wouldn't let you leave the store otherwise!"

I stepped into the dressing stall and looked in the mirror. I hoped it would look good on me, despite my small frame. I knew it would have to be altered to size, but if it looked good…well…I didn't think there would be another for me.

Once I had the gown on, I stepped out of the stall and approached the saleslady. She directed me to a little platform, a little nearer to Narcissa than I cared for. Yet, I stepped up and looked at myself in the three-way mirror. It looked amazing, as the woman had said it would. I couldn't contain my smile.

"I've got an amazing tiara that would go with this…" The woman bustled off to the storage room. That was when Narcissa attacked.

"Who is it that you're marrying?"

"Ehm…Xenophilius Lovegood."

"That freak who has been trying to convince the Ministry of the importance of the Crumple Horned Snorkack?" She snorted as she sketched what she wanted done with her green and black fabric. "A real winner. Isn't he unemployed as well?"

"No. He writes for independent magazines and papers, nothing like the rubbish that the Prophet publishes. And he's working on his own at the moment, actually. And he is not a freak. I assure you, he is a hundred times the man your snake of a husband is."

"On what basis?"

"He was a royal git in school. Thought he owned the place, didn't he? He was positively cruel to my friend Petra."

She didn't have a response. Instead, she turned her attention to the dress I was wearing.

"Oh I don't know, Marina. Don't you think this is too nice for you? Won't you just go and blow it up or something? You'll be walking down the aisle with singe marks in that gorgeous lace."

"What do you mean?"

To be honest, I was surprised she knew my name. She'd been a few years older than me at Hogwarts. Still, I had not thought her to be so mean. Perhaps it was her husband, Lucius, that had changed that.

"Oh, it's well-known that you nearly decimated your flat the other day. The Ministry wasn't too happy."

My face flushed. Of course. Lucius worked for the Ministry of Magic.

"I guess it just proved the fact that Mudbloods aren't meant to wield a wand."

My blood was boiling, but I didn't dare lose my composure.

"My creativity knows no bounds, Narcissa. I'd much rather have a free mind, where I may experiment and create perhaps a little too much, than a mind constricted and controlled by another."

I knew I had struck a chord. It was well known that the Malfoys had been staunch supporters of Voldemort in his prime. He'd used many tactics to gain followers—mind-control being one of them. Sure, there had been many people who truly **had **been under Voldemort's spell, including some who had been under the influence of the Imperius curse. But I didn't believe the Malfoys had been bewitched.

"How—how dare you?" Narcissa was trying awfully hard to look offended and shocked, but she didn't have the chance to counter me. The shop woman had returned, a gorgeous silver tiara in her hand. There were onyx stones set into the metal, and it would go lovely with the frock.

When she placed it on my head, I knew there was no going back. The rest of the wedding would be modest, but if there was one thing I would spring for, it would be this.


	7. Chapter 7

When I returned from my trip to Diagon Alley, Xenophilius was awake and waiting for me. He was seated by the fireplace, his legs crossed and a paper in his hands.

"Morning, Xeno." I smiled, setting my bag and receipt aside.

"It's nearly afternoon, but all the same, good morning, love." He set the paper aside and turned towards me.

I eyed the discarded paper. The Daily Prophet.

"Prophet, huh? Doing some research on how not to do journalism?"

"Something like that, yes." He stood up and walked over to me, handing me a cup of murky liquid. I eyed it suspiciously, but not wanting to offend him, I sipped it tentatively.

"This is amazing!"

"Made it with the lemons from the tree in the front."

It was the first thing I could honestly say I enjoyed that Xeno had made himself.

"Did you have any luck this morning at Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, actually!" I held out my cup, which he eagerly refilled. "I found a beautiful dress, which is being altered. I cannot say all was sunshine, though. I ran into Narcissa Black, who is now Narcissa Malfoy. She certainly had a few words to say on our engagement."

I was glad he didn't inquire any further, because I don't know how I could have relayed the encounter without feeling absolutely cruel.

"I was thinking Xeno…I wouldn't mind apparating to France. To check up on Petra, of course. And to tell her the good news."

"That could be nice. Remember how we loved visiting Versailles? The gardens! We could go again."

"If you wish. I didn't think we'd be staying a long time…just long enough to tell Petra of our engagement." I could tell he was getting excited, and I didn't really want to put a damper on that. However, I had been hoping for a short, to-the-point trip to France.

"Alright. And Eric will be there?"

"I'm assuming." I shrugged. "So I can send her an owl? If she responds soon, we can go tomorrow. Perry should be up for the flight."

…

Petra had enthusiastically replied, and soon we were in France. It seemed that everyone in France dressed so posh, and the Xeno and I stuck out like sore thumbs. I had on a simple black trench coat and crimson flats that covered feet wrapped in dark leggings. Underneath was an old dress I'd dug around for in the bottom of my trunk (I still had not transferred my things from the flat to Xeno's house). It was gray and fading, and the material had an unnatural stretch from the amount of times I had worn it. I kept it for its comfort—not for style.

Xenophilius was wearing his best attempt at Muggle clothing. I had informed him on the subject of Muggle attire ages ago, but he didn't seem to remember much of it. He'd had to change multiple times before I finally gave him the go-ahead. He was wearing plain, khaki slacks with dragon-hide combat boots and an electric blue blazer. The look was almost dizzying, because the color of the jacket was _that _bright.

"They live just over here." I pointed to a small stretch of studio apartments, where the lights that filtered out of the windows seemed to beckon us like beacons.

We could have disapparated, or even apparated directly into their studio. Petra and Erik had specifically instructed that we not do so. They said that the tenants were very snoopy, and would surely want to investigate the noise. So instead, we had had to apparate somewhere a little more secluded.

I pressed the combination Petra had given me, and from the speaker in front of me came a bit of static.

"Yes?" The voice was male and had a strong French accent. Erik.

"Erik, hello! It's Marina and Xenophilius."

"I'm buzzing you in."

"They're in apartment twenty."

Xeno took my hand and gave me an encouraging smile. I think he understood that while I was excited to tell them, I was also a bit nervous. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because Erik was the complete opposite of Xeno, and I was worried what Petra would think. I wasn't sure, but all of a sudden, I had butterflies in my stomach.

We had to go up three flights of stairs to get to number twenty. It wasn't hard to find once we reached the correct level—Petra was in the doorway waiting for us.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" It was odd-it seemed she'd acquired a bit of a French accent. It didn't sound natural coming from her lips. "Come in, come in."

Petra ushered us in enthusiastically. I don't believe I had ever seen her grin so broadly.

"This is quite the place you have," I observed. Everything was very sharp and modern. Although it was a small apartment, they had done wonders to conceal that fact.

"I know! Erik's had his eye on it since he was sixteen! We were lucky to snag it."

"Champagne?" Erik seemed to come out of nowhere. He had a bottle of expensive champagne in his hand, and _four _glass flutes in the other. It was like he was superman!

"Oh, I don't drink much…" I shook my head. Even though it was a casual drink, I just never found it appealing. Quite frankly, any kind of alcohol tasted just as appalling to me as Xeno's Gurdyroot Infusion.

"Oh, come now. One drink!" Petra and Erik were already pouring them out, all four flutes.

Petra had turned into some upper-society woman. She certainly looked the part in her form-fitting black dress and designer pumps. I couldn't help but feel severely underdressed in my gray dress, worn and battered.

"Alright then." I agreed in a soft, unsure voice.

"I must say I was a tad surprised you wanted to visit, Rina. It hasn't been extraordinarily long since we last saw each other. I'm glad to see that you and Xeno are still doing well."

"Better than well, actually," Xeno proclaimed proudly after taking a polite sip from his flute. He was not a drinker either, but he was evidently more concerned about manners and etiquette.

Petra cocked a curious eyebrow and took a long pull from her champagne. "Oh?"

"We thought you'd like to know straight from us…but Xeno and I are engaged." I still felt a bit self-conscious in the plush apartment, but I couldn't stop the smile from spreading on my face.

"Congratulations," Erik crooned, lifting his glass to Xeno.

"That's wonderful! Somehow I knew you two would stick together. You're a good match." Once Petra said this, she clawed for my hand. It was yanked out of Xeno's, and she began to examine the ring on my finger.

Her disappointment was visible. I felt bitterness spread throughout me. Just because she had gotten engaged to a rich Frenchman didn't mean I was. I was perfectly content with what Xeno had gotten me. In fact, I don't think I would have wanted anything more. What Petra wore was too gaudy, too flashy. I didn't appreciate her judgment or crestfallen expression.

"Want to have a girl talk in the kitchen?" She prompted, letting go of my hand without one word on the diamond.

"Sure," I answered, resigning to whatever she wanted to say. It had been my choice to come here, no one else's. Even if it was not what I had expected, I had brought this upon myself.

I wondered what Erik and Xeno would talk about. They were so different…Erik was so…sophisticated.

"So…you're engaged to Xenophilius Lovegood. Is it all you ever dreamed?"

"Well, I don't know yet. I haven't properly lived with him yet, just a couple days here and there. But I love him so much, Petra. With my family the way they are and my friends so scattered…he's all I have left. He's nearly always positive, and he's so creative. He's sweet and caring. His ideas are endless. I never stood a chance." I smirked. "There was no way I wouldn't fall for him. We're starting a magazine together. I'm excited for that…and I should be moving in soon. I bought my dress. It's gorgeous. And I-" I paused and looked at her. She didn't seem to be paying attention. It was then that I realized just how one-sided the conversation had been.

"That sounds very nice. But tell me—is he good?"

"Good?" I asked, my brow creasing. From what I had just relayed to her, how could he be anything but good?

"Well, he's absolutely bonkers, isn't he." She had a devilish grin on her face, and she gripped the wine glass like she had talons. "I bet he's crazy under the sheets as well." She tipped back the flute in a manner than had me feeling sick to my stomach. Or perhaps it was the question.

The Hufflepuff I knew would never have asked such a forward and bold thing. I felt the color drain from my face, but at the same time, I felt a blush creep up my neck. It was the strangest feeling. I was mortified.

What could I tell her? That I wouldn't know? I honestly didn't. Xenophilius and I hadn't gotten there yet—something I'm sure many other couples wouldn't understand. We were waiting it out, or at least that's what I thought it was. We wouldn't have to wait too much longer…

"_Rina_!" She gasped, sounding absolutely scandalized. "You can't tell me that after all this time…"

I kept my eyes on the table and shut my mouth tight. It was all I could do to keep myself from screaming at her right then. Why did she insist on embarrassing me? Why was she intent on pointing out all the inadequacies in my relationship? First the ring, now this?

"Oh, dear. Well, I'm _sure_ it isn't because he doesn't want to. I'm sure he's dying to. Not like he has many other options, at any rate."

My head snapped up and I lost all sense. I was glaring at her. I had never done such a thing, at least not to Petra.

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" I scathed. She looked taken aback, and I took pleasure in this.

"You know I didn't mean it in a bad way, Rina."

"What does that even mean?" My voice raised an octave, to the point where I sounded hysterical. I wondered if the guys could hear me in the other room. "Are you saying that I'm the only one who would take Xenophilius? Because if you are, I don't even know who you are anymore, Petra. Xeno is the kindest person I've had the honor of knowing. He'd never hurt me, or anyone else. He may have his quirks," Petra gave an unladylike snort, "but he's incredible. How can you even say that no one else would want him? It makes it sound like you think I settled for second rate. You're sorely mistaken." I stood up and looked her straight in the eyes. "I thought I knew you, but lately you've been changing right in front of me. Whatever moving to France has done to you, it is not becoming. When has it ever been polite to inquire about someone's romantic life in such a way?" I breathed in deeply—inhale, exhale. "Forget it. I just thought you might try being genuinely happy for me, instead of pitying me because of whatever deficiencies you find in my relationship with Xeno. You can keep your riches and exotic lifestyle if this is what it has done. I'm perfectly content living a quiet, simple life in the countryside with my '_**bonkers**_' husband if it means avoiding this."

I left the kitchen in a storm and rushed Xeno. He looked surprised, but smiled tenderly just the same.

"Let's go. I think our job is done. Thanks for the champagne, Erik. Nice seeing you again."

I grasped Xeno's hand, and I think he understood. I didn't care about following Petra's orders anymore. I nodded up at him, and just like that, we had disapparated.

**A/N: I'd been debating putting this chapter in for a while…Still not sure how I feel about it. Oh well! Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Bit of a fluff chapter, but I think it was necessary after chapter 7.**

I had acted tough and strong last night, but Petra's words had me stewing. Why hadn't we gone any further….ever? She was right—we'd been together for a while.

I hated how she had implanted these doubts in my mind. Like I needed any more. Perhaps they had always been there, nestled underneath false confidence.

Xeno was hard at work in his room. He was intent on getting the first issue of The Quibbler out by the following week.

After the encounter with Petra and Erik, I was beginning to wonder who _would_ come to the wedding. There was always Xeno's friends from the publishing industry. His family, too, if they were able. If I had thought my owl Perry could find her, Jackie would be invited.

Remus would probably attend. That would be at least something.

The invitations were laid out before me on the bed. There were many cards—I had a feeling there would be much excess.

Mum and dad were still getting one, though it was very unlikely that they'd be RSVPing. They'd made it clear that they disapproved.

I addressed one for Jackie anyways. It couldn't hurt to try. Then Remus. And Xeno's parents. His friend Alden. Blake. Rebecca got one as well, even though she'd been closer to Petra than I.

Once I addressed all the invited, I ventured into Xeno's study. He was writing madly in a notepad. From the look of the place, it seemed he'd gotten a lot done.

"You're working hard," I mused, smiling at him from the doorway.

He jumped a tad, but returned the expression.

"I think our first issue will be a success." He closed his notebook and shifted his attention to the typewriter. It was typing out articles without any effort on Xeno's part. He picked up a completed sheet of paper and examined it. With the tap of his wand, it began to check itself for grammar or spelling errors—a spell of my own creation.

"You've gotten so much done in such a small time frame. I'm so proud of you, Xenophilius."

He made the typewriter stop with a flourish, and he turned to look at me.

"You're worried about something. Either that, or you have a wrackspurt infestation." He whipped around wildly and produced a pair of curious glasses. They were vibrantly colored—an obnoxious pink with multi-colored lenses.

"No, you seem fine. No wrackspurts. Something must be troubling you, then." He tossed the glasses aside, but my gaze followed them.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Spectrespecs! I hope to refine them. One day they'll be a staple for every Quibbler reader." For a moment, he had been diverted. But Xeno was a clever man; he soon caught on. "What is wrong?"

I sighed. Where to begin?

"It's just something Petra said last night. It's nothing."

"I think it is."

I sat down at one of the desks and avoided eye contact at all costs; this would be awkward enough as is.

"She asked about…our romantic life. If we'd…you know. She asked how it was. It seemed to fascinate her." The disgust in my voice was evident.

"I'm assuming you told her the truth."

"Of course."

"So why should this upset you?"

"I just…well, it opened up a lot of questions. It was the way she worded it." I fiddled with a ring I had on my right hand. "Xeno? Are you…attracted to me like that? Be honest. Do you even _want _to?" I felt foolish asking, and my face was burning scarlet.

"What did she say to make you think otherwise?"

"Please, just answer." I closed my eyes. I don't know why the whole ordeal was upsetting me so.

"Yes. Of course I am. How could you think anything else. Yes, I want to. But there are so many other facets that attract me to you. Your talent, wit, spark. You're willing and eager attitude towards learning and exploring…"

"So then…_why_?"

"Why?"

"Why haven't we…?" I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"I always assumed we were going to wait…I assumed it was what you wanted. It would make it more special."

My throat constricted as I fought back tears.

"I do want that."

Xenophilius came forward and embraced me. "Petra may have made fun of you, and your parents may have shunned you. But don't ever doubt my love for you—physical attraction or anything else. It's folly. If all I wanted or expected out of you was to share a bed, we surely wouldn't have survived this long."

"I was being silly." I whispered. "I guess I just was overwhelmed. Petra…"

"Has changed." He finished. "I noticed. Now—now that we've established that you needn't have any further doubts, why don't you give me advice on a layout? This project is as much yours as it is mine."


	9. Chapter 9

It felt like mere seconds between the proposal and the day of the wedding. Few had RSVP'd, so some of the stress had been lifted from our shoulders.

It was a humble wedding. It happened in our garden, and the flowers had felt like guests all their own. They were so vibrant and many in number that the empty seats didn't seem so. They added extra color to the turquoise and white color scheme. Maybe this was the way it was destined to be—intimate and personal.

Those who had shown up were Rebecca, Remus (who looked more ragged and fatigued than ever), Blake, and Alden. My parents had not attended. And finally, I had accepted that. I wouldn't allow myself to be disappointed on such an important day.

There was no one to give me away, which was different. When I was younger, this scene always played over and over in my head. Well, not the exact scene! This was like nothing I'd imagined. And despite wishing that I was on good terms with my parents, I would rather have a man I loved than settle for one that fit their standards.

…..

The Quibbler had been a success.

Let me correct myself.

After the first issue hit shelves throughout Diagon Alley, Xeno had received a handful of 'letters to the editor'. Some were positive and praising. Others called him dirty names and trashed it. Either way, Xeno took it in stride. He cherished those few letters, from the 'faithful' and 'believers'. It was what kept him going. And despite the few naysayers, requests to advertise in the magazine soon flooded our letterbox, one owl at a time.

This was one of my jobs. I sorted through the requests and picked which ones the readers would relate to the most. I also wrote on occasion, when I wasn't working a shift at the new café called The Magical Quill. It was a place for writers to converge. Journalists, novelists, obscure poets…All gathered at The Magical Quill. We served our own renditions of butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and pear cider—special recipes that had been handed down from generations . The manager was quite proud of that. We also offered exotic coffees and popular teas. And the atmosphere was perfect for writing the next best thing.

Often times I wish _I _were sitting at one of the small tables, sitting hunchback over a bit of parchment and scribbling madly. But I was just a server, and I spent my time watching others create. That was why I loved going home to Xeno; he encouraged me to keep writing, even when the Prophet turned me down time and time again.

I loved our regular customers. There was Natalie, who wrote poetry by the fireplace. The subjects were often macabre, but there was no denying her talent. Then there was Xander, a handsome thirty-something desperate to become published. His life's ambition was to see a display in the windows of Flourish and Blotts: His name written in fanciful and indulgent font on a banner, and the cover of his latest best seller underneath. But possibly best of all was Veronica, who wrote honestly and from the heart. Sometimes she allowed me to take a peek at her latest project, a privilege not given to many. She was fresh out of Hogwarts, even more recent than I. She'd been a Gryffindor, and we'd never been acquainted. Nevertheless, I was happy to have gotten to know her now.

I loved my job, but simultaneously felt like it was holding me back from my own writing career. Xenophilius promised that once The Quibbler took off, I could quit and have all I needed from magazine sales. I have been trying to push away the pessimism that I often find bubbling to my lips, but I had to believe he was right in feeling confident about his latest endeavor.

….

Living with Xenophilius for a long period of time certainly rubs off. It was impossible not to believe in the unbelievable when you were in such a creative and nurturing atmosphere. I think it was always inside me—the ability to forget logic and just explore and disregard public opinion. It just took time and the right person to break down that self-conscious barrier.

I had pin-pointed the term for it, and it felt very Ravenclaw.

I'd been flicking my wand here and there, trying to perfect a spell I'd created earlier in the week. Xeno was half-watching in the chair across the room, but whenever I did catch him looking at me, it was an expression of admiration.

"We're quite the couple, eh?"

"What do you mean?" I asked as purple sparks flew around the room.

"You with your spells and great inventions, and me with my creatures and theories." He had stood up, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore my favorite expression: his smile was soft, and his eyes were downcast, thinking. He looked kind. This simple expression embodied who he was to me—a man with a big heart and a ready mind.

"We're just ever-curious." I answered, trying unsuccessfully to reign in the sparks. One violet straggler zapped him on the nose, but all he did was laugh good-naturedly.

"Ever-curious! I like that term. It's…us."

We were close to each other now, foreheads just inches apart. These were the moments I cherished. Quiet, simple moments. Out in the countryside, no one around us…I just felt so _together_ with Xenophilius.

"Us," I exhale, lips grazing his as I said the word. Just as he was about to close the gap once and for all, stray sparks flew out of the wand I'd tossed aside on a table. They came flying at us, breaking us apart. But instead of feeling angry or disappointed, we just laughed in unison.

…_.._

Two months after the wedding, I realized why certain things had been starting to occur. Fatigue, sickness. Even though I'd cast away my pessimism and insecurities, I felt ill often.

Instead of carrying doubts and insecurities, I was carrying a miracle.

"Little Luna," Xeno kept saying. He insisted it would be a girl. We'd decided on names, and Luna had ranked in the top for the females. I liked it very much, and felt it suited the type of life she'd have at the Lovegood household.

As a teenager, I'd never imagined myself with children. I didn't have the affinity for them that Petra had. She'd been amazing with them; it came so naturally for her. But now that I had life growing inside me, it felt different. I think it just felt right.

I had to quit work, but that only gave me more time to help Xenophilius and work on my own articles. Since shedding (most of) my negativity and gaining cheer-inducing hormones, the Daily Prophet actually accepted some of my pieces. And yet, it didn't feel as rewarding as seeing my articles in The Quibbler. I always received comments on my Quibbler entries, but rarely got a single word of feedback on the ones printed in the Prophet. It wasn't only that; I didn't need the feedback to feel satisfied. The Quibbler had always accepted me and welcomed me, but the Prophet scorned me and begrudgingly accepted my work. The editor that had rejected me relentlessly had become second-in-command to a more open-minded individual. She, the head editor, apparently liked what I'd come up with. And…voila! The second in command had sent me a letter asking me to visit the publishing office to come claim my first check. That had been the most awkward experience. She had to hand me the payment that she had denied me for years. She was _not _a happy witch. And much to my surprise, it didn't feel as good as I'd always imagined.

…

"Marina, love? Are you up there?"

I bolted upright. I had fallen asleep at my writing desk. This had become a poor habit of mine.

"Yes," I slurred, still trying to shake off the sleep.

"Ah," Xeno said when he entered. "You fell asleep again?"

I shook my head in protest, but he didn't seem persuaded.. He knelt by me and rubbed his thumb across my cheek.

"Not convincing me," he showed me his thumb, which was smeared with my purple ink. "You need to rest more. I know you've been working hard on the next issue, but think of our Luna," he put his hands on my stomach, which was just starting to protrude.

"You're so sure." I laughed. "Okay. I'll try and regain a normal sleeping pattern."

"Good. Besides, I don't like waking up to find you missing. After all we saw those years…I don't want to lose you."

I felt slightly ashamed. "Okay, Xeno. I promise."

"What were you working on, now?"

Eager to change subjects, I showed him the work I had done a few hours before. It was quite messy, but I knew he'd be able to read it.

"Nargles?"

I nodded. "Nargles. I've been researching them. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them." I pointed to a rough sketch of one that I'd drawn based on a vague description. "Academics say they don't exist…but…maybe they do?" I hoped so. They were very intriguing.

Xeno's eyes lit up when I said this, and he kissed me so suddenly that I nearly fell out of my chair.

"Yes! That's the spirit. That's the Rina I fell in love with in school. Remember our trips to the lake looking for Grindylows and kelpies? Or our treks around the greenhouse for gnomes? I worried that the war had taken that zealousness for discovery from you and that doubt had replaced curiosity!" My head was clasped between his hands, and I smiled up at him.

"Not a chance, Xeno. I guess I just got a bit jaded. It was hard not to. I just needed some time."

"So tell me about these creatures…"

"Nargles," I reminded him gently, and then launched into the stories I had read.


	10. Chapter 10

I was nine months pregnant, just about to pop. Xeno and I had made all the preparations. Luna's room we now knew it was a little girl) was all decorated and primed for her arrival. All we could do now was wait.

I took to sitting at the river's edge. It was my little spot, away from anything else. It was very calming.

The water lapped at my bare toes, and tiny fish brushed against my skin. I was unbelievably lucky. I lived in a beautiful area, had a loyal and loving husband, and was about to welcome a new addition to the Lovegood family.

Some days I really did miss my friends greatly. But Jackie was gone. Petra was still living the glamorous life. Rebecca was off being a professor at another school for magic. One thing I deeply hoped was that one day Luna would have strong, lasting friendships.

Xeno was enough, but that didn't mean I didn't _want _anyone else!

Luna would have such a beautiful childhood. I could tell. Our home in the country was bound to inspire her, and the opportunities for play are endless.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned my head to press my lips against his fingers.

"You found me."

"It _is _lovely out. But I think we best get you inside…let me help you." He lifted me up off the ground, and held me steady. "I don't know how you got down here…"

"I'm not that big!" I chuckled, knowing he meant no harm.

"I made us some lunch, come."

….

By the third month of being parents, Xeno and I were finally getting the hang of it. It would have been an understatement to say we were unprepared, and we didn't have much of a support system. Luckily, Luna was not a problem child. She was rather calm, only crying when something was really off.

And why should she? If Xeno doted on her anymore, she'd be spoiled rotten in no time! She had toys, attention, and a positive environment. Xeno and I rarely argued, so that wasn't even a concern. She showed great patience and intelligence, which left us optimistic.

…

"Come, Luna. Look outside!" I urged, gesturing for the five-year-old to take a peek out the window.

She ran forward eagerly, ever-curious, just like her parents. Her blues eyes lit up when she saw them: dozens of butterflies in the garden.

"Look at the purple one!" She squealed, pressing her nose against the glass. "Can we go out with them, mum?"

"Sure." I laughed. "But be very quiet and kind to them, or they might fly away!"

She ran out the door, long dirty blonde hair flowing behind her.

In these moments, I wished Xeno were here. He'd gotten a little office in Diagon Alley for The Quibbler, and he went there most days to oversee his writers and other staff. I still wrote from home, when Luna was taking naps or playing in her room. But the magazine had grown, and more employees were needed.

"Mommy, look!" Luna called to me, beaming toothlessly—she'd already lost her front two teeth, and another was on its way out.

"Coming, Luna."

When I entered the garden I found Luna surrounded by the insects. One of them was perched in her right hand, slowly opening and closing its orange and yellow wings.

She was magic, our Luna. Not in the literal sense, although that was true as well. But she lit up a room, and inspired kindness in all, especially creatures.

…

"How was work, dear?" I asked Xeno as he embraced me.

"Oh, wonderful. Luna helped out a great deal."

"Did you?" I grinned at her. It was remarkable how much she'd grown…at eight she was nearly taller than me!

"Oh yes! I helped sort pictures and even gave a writer advice!"

"You're so brilliant." I kissed her cheek and took her hands in mine. "I have a little something for you."

"Really?"

"Yes." I went to the kitchen table and retrieved the wooden box. "Here you go."

"Mum, did you make these?"

"Yes, do you like them?"

She threw her arm around men in response.

"I guess so! Put them on, then."

Luna put the necklace over her head, fingering the Butterbeer cork charm with a smile. Then she poked the raddish earrings in.

"Those are lovely," Xeno said, putting a hand on our child's shoulders, but looking at me the whole time.

"They're charms. Would you like to know what they do?"

….

"And what is it called?"

"Hogwarts, love. Hogwarts."

"It's a school for magic?"

"Yes!" I chuckled. "In two years, you'll be getting your letter. Then we'll take you to Diagon Alley to get your supplies. Oh! And you get sorted into houses! Yours father and I were both Ravenclaws."

"What's a Ravenclaw?"

"Ravenclaw are people who take pride in intelligence. They're quick witted and determined, and eager for a challenge. They like puzzle solving and learning new things. Above all, they're curious, because curiosity leads to knowledge."

"Would you be upset if I wasn't put in Ravenclaw?"

"Absolutely not!" I shook my head. "The other houses have great qualities, too. There's Gryffindor, for the passionate and the courageous. Hufflepuff, for those who work hard, make friends, and are loyal. The final house is Slytherin. Those students are ambitious, and make close alliances. They know how to work together, but they're independent above all else."

"Did you want Ravenclaw?"

"Well, I was raised by Muggles, so I was never told about the houses. I think I would have wanted it, though, had I known."

"What else is there?"

"There's a great big lake, and Quidditch, of course. You study Potions and Astronomy and Charms. There are ghosts, but most are friendly. The food is fantastic. If you get into Ravenclaw, the view is stunning."

"Is it hard to get around?"

I smirked, remembering all too well how many times I got lost. "At first it is, but soon it'll become your second home."

"Do you miss it?"

"All the time." I nodded. "But it's your time now. In two years, you'll get to go there."

"Will I get to see you?" She looked fearful.

I gently hugged her to me.

"Yes, Luna. On holidays. And we'll write all the time."

"Okay."

"You'll love it."


	11. Chapter 11

I typed away furiously at my cluttered desk, throwing paper after paper onto a pile. I hadn't stopped writing since ten in the morning. It was now noon, and I could see no end in sight. The inspiration had hit when I'd seen birds flying around our small pumpkin patch. We'd planted them not to long ago, when Luna mentioned having seen houses with pumpkins in a Muggle village. She and Xeno had taken a side trip after he'd consulted with a potential advertiser, and she immediately grew curious. She researched how to grow them, and it had become her own little project. It made me proud to see her so dedicated to making sure they were growing at a healthy (albeit accelerated) rate. She checked on them every day, at least twice.

Sometimes all it took was a single image to send my imagination soaring. This was not a piece for The Quibbler, although I did have one due at the end of the day. I hoped Xeno wouldn't mind, although I couldn't see why it would make him angry. He rarely got upset. Even when we'd begun to receive hate mail from people known to be former Death Eaters, he remained calm and civil, save for a few muttered curses, well out of Luna's earshot.

Besides the occasional harsh letter, The Quibbler was doing quite well. Specialty stores took quite an interest in it, and many chose to buy advertising space monthly.

I wished I could visit the people who had laughed at him so cruelly in school. The magazine was succeeding, even if it was in a very small niche of the publishing arena. No, I didn't believe it would ever be taken seriously by Prophet die-hards, but in its area of expertise, it was popular. There were even fellow Ravenclaws (who were usually very accepting of oddball ideas, since they tended to be intellectuals and creative folk) who had snickered behind his back at his mock-up issues. I'm sure even our friends found him to be mad. But it was that 'madness' that drew me to him. He was so different than everyone else. So tender and caring and curious, but sharp as a whip.

I ripped the page I had just finished from the clamp and tossed it onto the pile, with much too much force. The papers all fell to the floor in disarray, no longer in the precise order.

I sighed and sunk to the floor. The wood was cold and uneven, digging into my bare knees. I was wearing a skirt today, something that was rare. But Luna and I planned to go to Hogsmeade today, to pick up some supplies and have a nice cuppa at Madam Puddifoot's. Oh that ridiculous place! But it would be fun. Luna liked the decorations, at any rate. I rummaged through the papers and just couldn't figure out where to begin. I had foolishly left them unnumbered. I'd have to sort through them carefully. Unless…

I popped up to my feet and smirked. Yes. I had been trying to perfect a spell to put things in order, and this would be the ideal chance to test it out. It was a nonverbal spell, and it was still a bit rough around the edges. I hadn't been able to get the wrist movement just correct, but it shouldn't be too much of an issue…

I picked up my wand from the desk and pointed it at the papers. My eyes closed as I tried to clear my mind of all things but the proper way to cast this custom spell. I breathed in, and exhaled. I raised my wand, prepared to flourish it grandly and then flick my wrist sharply—

"Mummy! Mummy! The pumpkins, have you seen? They're even more orange than yesterday! And I found a caterpillar on one of them!"

I breathed out and smiled, then opened my eyes and turned towards her.

"That's great sweetie. You've been doing a wonderful job looking after them."

"Daddy sent an owl from the office to let us know he'd be home soon! He says that he has a lot of work to do, so we should just go out and have fun."

"Sounds brilliant, Luna, dear. I'm about to practice a new spell I've created."

Her eyes lit up. She always loved to watch me perform magic. She knew that soon her day would come when she'd have a wand of her own, and she'd be able to properly harness her ability.

"See these papers? Your pumpkins inspired me, so I did a bit of writing. But being me, I was careless and they fell to the ground all mismatched! Watch this!"

I resumed my position and went through the same steps as before. Closing my eyes. Breathing. Clearing my head. I stuck my wand out in front of me, a smile on my face. I knew Luna was watching, probably with longing and wonder in her eyes. She was so very curious about magic—I was so excited to teach her what I knew, and see her progress in school. She'd do just amazing! I moved my arm in a fluid motion, creating a great invisible horizontal oval in the air in front of me. When I completed the shape, I flicked my wrist. A little too hard. I could feel the pain spread up my arm. Surely it was just a sprain. I had been a little too eager.

But I realized then that my mind had wandered, and I hadn't focused hard enough. I'd been thinking of my Luna, how smart and beautiful she was. I had been imagining her in the Ravenclaw Common Room, friends surrounding her. I hadn't been thinking of the spell. Not enough. And the flick of the wrist had been too abrupt, too severe.

Sparks flew up towards my face from the tip of my wand and burst in front of me. The pain in my arm was pulsing and spreading, and I stole a glance over my shoulder. Luna looked confused, unsure if this was part of the plan or something to be concerned about. But I could tell. I'd made a mistake. I was too curious. And that would be my downfall.

I looked down at my arm, which now felt like an entire separate entity than a part of my body.

I looked over my shoulder one final time, and felt tears well in my eyes. She was so beautiful, my Luna. I thought fleetingly of the life she would have. Xeno would give her all his love. The love he'd given me. She'd have a good life, here. Just as I had. And despite the pain from the botched wand work, my lips twitched upwards.

All went black.


	12. Chapter 12

It took a moment for Luna to realize what had happened. She rushed forward, her sopping wet rain boots from the dewy pumpkin patch leaving muddy footprints along the wooden floor.

"Mummy?" She said, kneeling on the floor next to her mother's motionless body. She placed a hand over her chest, trying to find any sign of breath, and finding none. She checked for a pulse, even though she knew there would be no point. "Mum?" Her voice, so soft and dreamy, sounded loud and cacophonous in the small writing room. There was a tone of hysteria in her voice, an emotion so foreign to Luna. Her forehead creased and her eyes became glassy, but no tears came.

She bent forward over her mother torso and cradled her head in her hands. Her thumb stroked her cheekbones, back and forth, back and forth. A lump formed in Luna's throat, and she turned away.

Death was something Luna had never experienced. She had no other family besides her parents, really. Her father's family rarely visited, only once every four years or so. And she had never met her grandparents from her mother's side. So she had never had to experience the sting of losing someone. Her wide eyes fell upon her mother's writing, which she had proclaimed to have been inspired by her very own pumpkin patch. Luna remembered how her heart had soared when her mum said that. She loved making her mum proud, but to have her be _inspired _by her! Oh how her heart had leapt with joy! With extreme care and caution, Luna picked up the typed-upon parchment. She struggled to find the correct order, but she vowed to work on it later, whenever she could. The papers felt precious to her, the last thing her mum had left.

She set the papers aside and turned back to the figure on the ground. She was secretly relieved her mother's eyes were closed. But how odd…she seemed to smile, even in death.

Luna's brow stitched together. Despite the ache in her heart, she knew that her daddy would be devastated. She would have to be strong enough for both of them.

She heard the front door swing open and her dad's feet shuffling about. He was humming faintly downstairs, an upbeat tune she'd heard him singing often. It usually meant a good day at work.

There was a pause, a bit of silence when Xenophilius' out of tune humming ceased, and then, "Marina? Luna-love?"

Luna became panic-stricken. She grasped her mum's hand, as if she could somehow tell her the right thing to do. She had always held her hand when she needed encouragement, or just to make her smile. But Luna found no comfort now. Her finger grazed her mother's wedding ring, a simple band with a delicate and tiny stone. It was very reflective of her parents' tastes.

How could she tell him?

Luna's lower lip quavered when she heard his footsteps approaching.

"Are you two hiding on me? I saw your shoes by the door, I know you're here," he teased affectionately. He peeked his head into the room. "Luna?" Luna looked over her shoulder. "Luna, what's wrong, my love?"

"It's mummy. Her spell—I—" She stammered, for once at a loss of words.

She shrunk away from her father. The expression on his face was crippling. His eyes (so expressive and lively when he had turned around the corner) were at once full of sorrow, and his jaw was trembling. His hands shook.

Luna flinched and inched away from the scene when Xenophilius crumpled to the ground almost as forcefully as her mother had.

Sobs ripped through him as he held her, the 'ever-curious', bright Ravenclaw he'd fallen in love with in their youth. His pixie.

He propped her upright and held her tightly, yet tenderly at the same time. He rocked her back and forth, his face in the crook of her neck.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he croaked over and over, and Luna was struck by the amount of feeling behind the words. She'd always heard the phrase passed between her parents, but this…this sounded like so much more to her. She heard the desperation in her father's voice—pleading with whatever higher being there was just to bring her back.

Luna grasped her mother's writing and backed out of the room.

"Daddy? I'm going down to the water…" But she was sure her dad had not heard her. She felt like she was invading on something so personal and intimate, private. He needed to grieve on his own. As she exited, she heard him whisper painfully, "We could have done so much more. We were going to do so much more…"

At the water's edge, Luna dipped her toes in and began to sort through the pages. It was harder than she expected, but then again, that was why her mother had tried to use her spell. The ache in her heart strengthened, and she felt herself shiver. In front of her father she had tried to appear strong. But at the river, everything came crashing in on her.

A tear slid down her cheek as she found the first page of her mother's story. She smiled at the familiar tone of the writing, cherished each word. She felt an overwhelming sense of love as she read it, feeling pride that it had been written with her in mind.

When she finished the piece (what had been completed, at least), she lay down on her back in the grass, the papers clutched to her chest. She remembered how her mummy always loved coming out to the water when she needed to clear her head. She could see why she liked it.

As much as she wanted to stay outside in the sunlight forever and just pretend nothing had happened, and that her mother would finish the story she held in her hands (because it was such a fun and amusing story!), she knew her father was in need of care. He needed to see that he still had _her_. He still had his Luna. And even if it wasn't any consolation for what had happened, she was determined to give him the love and support he needed, as her mother would have and would want her to.


	13. Chapter 13

Luna watched her father slip away from reality month after month. He'd always subscribed to an alternative view on life, and had always believed in things that were fanciful and non mainstream, but it only intensified following his wife's death.

Luna was…coping. She missed her mother dearly, there was no denying. But rarely did she shed a tear. She had a constant hollow feeling in her chest, but it was lessening with each day, but only because she knew she had to be strong for Xenophilius.

Her daddy went about his normal routine, but there seemed to be hollowness to his actions. The only time he truly looked happy was when he was in the garden or fishing with Luna. These were things he had done with his wife and daughter so often.

Luna slept with a picture of her and her mum underneath her pillow every night. If she ever had a nightmare, all she had to do was flick on her light to see her mum's face again, and she'd feel instantly better. Xenophilius would check on her, too, occasionally, but Luna never wanted to bother him. He needed what little sleep he could get. He barely ever was able to sleep for a full night—if Luna got up to use the bathroom or get a drink of water, she usually found him awake scribbling madly at his desk. She knew how much he had loved her momma, and she knew that it hurt him sometimes that Luna was so much like her. Even though Marina had had short, brunette hair, Luna had inherited her fair complexion and bright, inquisitive eyes.

Xeno barely got out of the house those days. He did most of his business from home, sending owls out to his employees with instructions. He drank that fowl tea with every meal, and all the time in between. Luna wasn't sure why; she didn't particularly like it.

When Luna received her Hogwarts letter, she literally leapt with joy. She remembered all the wonderful things her mum had said about the magical school quite clearly. She wanted to be in Ravenclaw, just like her parents, but above all, she just wanted to see the castle! She had bounded into Xenophilius' office with a smile as wide as the moon on her face. She immediately thrust the parchment in front of her dad, just waiting for his words of congratulations, or at least a celebratory hug. But all was silence. Xenophilius' face fell, and deep lines settled into his forehead. Now who would he have? Marina, his pixie, was gone. And now Luna? Off to school for months and months at a time—the only bit of sunshine he had left?

It took him a few minutes to muster up the will to smile at his Luna, but he did it, however unconvincingly.

"We'll have to take you to Diagon Alley, my love. School will be starting soon."

"I'm so excited, daddy!" She'd kissed him on the cheek with enthusiasm, and then ran out of the room to her garden. There were even more fanciful creatures playing around in the enchanted flowers and mysteriously rustling bushes. Xeno had insisted upon making the garden even more grand. With each passing month and year, the house became more like a fantasyland, just further illustrating his retreat from reality.

….

"Daddy! It's nearly ten-thirty! We must get going!" Luna urged in an uncharacteristically nervous tone. She was bustling about downstairs, making sure she had everything she needed for Hogwarts.

"Yes, yes." Xeno hummed, looking quite unkempt. He was fiddling with a charm about his neck, an odd looking symbol. But Luna knew all about it at her age—The Deathly Hallows symbol. Her daddy told her the tale as a bedtime story once, and Luna had loved it so much she requested to hear it a few more times. It was pretty gruesome, but the moral was important, she felt.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Luna asked in concerned. She took one of his hands in her tiny hand and squeezed. "It's alright. We'll go out together."

Standing in the open air was like a shock for Xenophilius. He'd gone into the garden a few times in the past couple weeks, but rarely anywhere else. He always wore layers of coats and other garments, so the harsh September wind was a shock on his skin. He tried to pull away from Luna's grip, stumbling backward towards the house. Luna cast him a sympathetic (and a bit disappointed) look.

"I have to go, Daddy. I can't do it without you."

Xeno's hand was trembling, but he allowed Luna to tug him forward. She stopped when they were in a clearing, and she looked up at him expectantly. They had planned to apparate to get to Platform 9 ¾. Even though Luna was nervous (she'd heard all about how unpleasant apparating was!), she put on a brave face for her daddy.

Xenophilius nodded and tightened his hold on her hand, and then he concentrated hard, imagining the station…

…

"There it is!" Luna cheered at the sight of the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. "Just like mum said!"

Despite the pang that went through his chest, Xeno couldn't help but smile. She still remembered everything her mum had told her, and she still cherished every token and memory that had been left behind.

Luna gripped her trolley, and Xeno (feeling like wildflower in a rose bush—his clothes were very…distinctive) trailed her. He looked around in a jittery fashion. He had to put his hands inside his coat pockets to quell the spasms.

Luna ran at the wall, not even needing encouragement from her father. Her maryjanes hit t he floor hard with each stride, and her butterbeer cork necklace flew about wildly. The look on her face was priceless: the utmost joy.

Xeno followed her, a little less energetic. But when he reached the other side, he couldn't help but smile. He remembered everything about his first time on the platform. The sight of the scarlet train had awed him. And now he watched his daughter experience the same sensation.

He glanced at the loading station, where students were putting their trolleys for storage. He smiled ruefully. He remembered his first time doing that as well. Because that was the first time he'd seen her.

She'd been too short to lift her trunk into place; her arms just barely could handle the weight. And Xeno had taken it upon himself to help her. He kept the image of her first smile reserved just for him tucked in the back of his mind, like it was a precious gift. He didn't know if she even remembered that moment, but he did.

He hadn't even realized he'd been crying, but his little Luna stood on her tip-toes to wipe away the tear.

"It's okay, Daddy. Mummy's looking down on us both. And I bet she's proud of you for coming out here today. I am, too."

Smoke billowed from the train and it gave a great squeal. Luna jumped a bit and giggled. Some attendants were yelling for the stray students to get on board, and Luna looked between the train and her father, biting her lip.

"Go on, love. Go have a fantastic time at Hogwarts."

"I love you, daddy." She hugged him tightly and he patted her back before she pulled away.

Xenophilius watched his daughter dash away towards the entrance of the Hogwarts Express, but before she entered, he called out to her.

"Luna! Luna-moon!"

She turned around quickly, the her lips stretched so broadly.

"Don't forget to send me an owl to let me know which house you're in."

She nodded quickly and then jumped aboard.

Xeno watched with mixed feelings—pride, love, joy…but also sadness and loneliness. How he was going to get by the next couple months, he wasn't sure. But he'd have to do it for Luna.

**FIN.**


End file.
